


color in my sheltered mind

by deepnest



Category: Hollow Knight (Video Games)
Genre: Family Fluff, Gen, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Sibling Bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:53:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25637617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deepnest/pseuds/deepnest
Summary: Out of their siblings, the little ghost often shows the least of what they went through. When a hint of the sorrow they've borne slips out, they find their family around them.
Relationships: The Hollow Knight | Pure Vessel & Hornet & The Knight, The Hollow Knight | Pure Vessel & The Knight
Comments: 5
Kudos: 139





	color in my sheltered mind

**Author's Note:**

> This was a Summer Stagbells gift for snakeyarts on tumblr! 
> 
> Also I changed Ghost and THK's names again and I will probably do it again after this... I just cannot write them as Ghost and THK for too long post canon?? But also I'm still trying to find names that really resonate. For now, though, THK is Chroma (which. "color," yes, but I was thinking about painting which is a hobby I can see them having) and Ghost is Carmin, after a type of rock.
> 
> And they're still living in the former Stag Nest
> 
> content warning: canon-typical body horror/infection-related gore

Chroma woke already moving, halfway out of their haphazard nest of cushions and blankets and everything else soft that had caught their fancy. 

They didn't know what they'd been dreaming about. Something that still prickled on the inside of their shell. Something bright. But not bright how their dreams normally were. Not bright within, not in the way that so often left them trapped, the memory of chains as constricting as their reality had been. 

This was bright without. Without and around and everywhere it seemed but the small and fragile and infinite darkness that-

Chroma realized they hadn't been dreaming at all. 

They crawled from their room, formally a massive elevator shaft, and their head swiveled in the direction of the central platform. Or was that more a living room now, just as their room finally felt like theirs? 

Unimportant. Strange to have a mind, a thing so given to wandering. This living space wasn't where they meant to go; they couldn't see their destination from this angle. They stood and stretched, an unfamiliar moment at their full height, when their mask threatened to overbalance them. 

They felt their way along the wall, to the start of the tunnels leading away from the central platform. They couldn't know what time it was, but the lumaflies were still sleeping, too. 

Carmin's rooms were as dark as the rest of the nest. Once, stags had thundered through the tunnel thresholds, but now, their sibling had made rooms from the entrances - space for sleeping, living, and storage for their various treasures. 

Chroma ran their claw considerately along the first tunnel wall. It would not be unheard of for Carmin to fall asleep in the middle of sorting their rock collection. But sounds coming from a few doors down caught Chroma's attention. Shuffling fabric, and then a series of muffled thumps. 

They lumbered further along, and knocked on the threshold of the bedroom. A soft blue light wavered from under the curtain, and then held. A single tap answered them.

They pulled aside the curtain and eased into the tunnel, settling on their knees just inside. 

Carmin was standing, uneasy, nail in one hand and their blanket still clutched in the other. They tipped their head back and met Chroma's eyes, and Chroma saw too much clarity in those small sockets, and remembered-

_ Pools of acid that went up to their middle, eating into them, gnawing into nerves that they weren't supposed to know, searing into them sensations that should have been meaningless. The  _ final _ crack of shell, burned beyond what it could bear. Their refusal and revival.  _

_ And so, again. Acid and infection and a clear mind through it all. They thought: they were the only one who could do this. Acid up to the edge of their mask. They trudged on, until their body broke again, until the next moment in memory when they were running, freewheeling off of the bench with their momentum no longer hampered. _

_ They were the only one left. They were drowning and alone.  _

_ They died, and stood again. _

Chroma had not been dreaming at all. It wasn't their nightmare which had stirred them. They had heard a cry, carried between god and void. They held out their hand. 

Carmin stayed where they were, and then looked down, their gaze passing from the offered hand to the items they held. They were entirely still, time that would have been filled with steadying breaths in mortal bugs. At last they set down their nail in order to fold the blanket carefully, and return it to their smaller pile of pillows. Then they nodded in gratitude, and patted at the tips of Chroma's claws. 

A dismissal. They were alright now. Chroma could go back to bed. 

They made no move to do so. They lifted their hand slowly, so that Carmin could see their every move, and set their claws between Carmin's horns. There was no mistaking it now. Their little sibling was still shaking. They adjusted so that their thumb could sweep up the outer curve of one horn, and back down again. 

Carmin set their hand on Chroma's wrist, but not to remove them. Carmin only held on. Once their trembling had subsided somewhat, they reclaimed their blanket and padded up to Chroma's knee. 

They nodded, and Carmin climbed onto their lap, waving their blanket out behind them before pulling it tight around their shoulders and curling up on their sibling. 

Chroma could not have said how long the two of them rested there, neither sleeping. They had a certain skill with stillness, and could allow time to wash over them easily. But they never felt Carmin relax, never felt their sibling go limp with true unconsciousness. And finally, the little one sat up, stared up, and shook their head. 

Chroma scooped them up and deposited them on the floor. Carmin plodded back to their little bed, but Chroma stopped them with a hand on their head again. 

When they turned back, Chroma offered them their arm, already bent. There was no hesitation, this time. One good jump, and the briefest flutter of bright wings, dampened by the loose blanket, and Carmin had settled in the crook of Chroma's arm. 

They shifted, and Chroma lifted their arm to keep them close. It was no great height, and it would take more than altitude to injure them, in any case. But Carmin, nestled against their sibling, did not fear falling.

They didn't travel far. Outside of Carmin's rooms, that space had once been the stags' central platform, though they'd all done their best to redefine it. It was now roughly furnished with a table, a small stove and food storage, and many more cushions and blankets. Chroma knelt to set Carmin on one of the cushions next to the table. 

They slid down immediately in favor of scaling Chroma, careful where they set their claws, but Chroma plucked them right back off. Carmin tried to nudge Chroma's hand open, but they merely lifted the smaller creature by their cloak and draped them between their horns. Carmin flopped there contentedly, lightly resting their feet on Chroma's shoulders while they leaned forward and braced their hands between Chroma's horns. 

At least the movement seemed to have Carmin feeling better. Chroma reached up to pat their head, once, before setting to work.

Chroma shuffled to the cupboard and plucked down a box of tea and a jar of honey. They set these down near the stove, and grabbed the kettle - which had more water left inside than they'd anticipated. Their hand spasmed from the unexpected weight, and the kettle plunged toward the stone floor.

Carmin spilled forward over Chroma's face, becoming a blur of shadow, which reconstituted into a young bug's shape just in time to catch the kettle, and with so much momentum that they crashed into the stove, instead. The clang echoed their masks, clamored up the walls; it felt like bugs in Dirthmouth must have heard it.

Chroma scooped Carmin up, first and foremost checking their shell for injuries, but they shook their head insistently and patted at Chroma's claws until they were quickly released.

There was no sound, but the two of them looked up. Above them was the loft.

The inevitable clank of the elevator came without giving them time to wait for it. Chroma's shoulders heaved in a silent sigh, and then they reclaimed the kettle. They'd hoped to avoid waking their sister - one among them might have gotten some rest. They'd add a little water, in case she chose to say. 

Hornet closed the distance from the elevator before they even had the water on, her cloak fastened over her shoulders and her needle at the ready. She assessed the situation silently and speedily. Chroma with their back to her, fussing to light the stove. Carmin, now sitting at the table, watching her. 

She lowered her weapon. "Nothing is the matter, is there?"

Carmin nodded, and then beckoned her to sit with them. She nodded back at them, but before she settled, she asked Chroma, "Well, while I am here, would you like any help?"

They shook their head without turning, and waved at her to sit over their shoulder. 

"Very well." She perched on a cushion with her legs crossed, and set her needle down within reach. "I am glad that nothing seems urgently amiss, but I wonder, what is the matter?"

Carmin stared at her.

"Why are you up in the middle of the night, little one?" 

They kept staring, only turned their gaze down upon the table. 

She was still, for a moment. She was almost as skilled at stillness as her taller sibling could be, save that she had a pulse in her heart and breath in her lungs. Then with a flash of claw, she undid her cloak and simply let it fall around around her shoulders. Without her scarlet silk and the tools within, she became a much more casual presence. 

She told them, "You may express if you feel unwell. You should" 

Again, they looked up at her - sharply, perhaps accusingly. Then their shoulders slumped, and they nodded. 

"Ah. Yes," was all she said. She glanced at her weapon, but certainly that would not help her here - reliable as it was, she could not depend on it for every situation. And they were still watching her. Of course, if they were going to be so attentive- 

She hummed considerately. "When Chroma has the tea ready, perhaps I will share with you a story." 

They tilted their head to one side, and now she bore the weight of their gaze with only a flicker of her fangs, a smile.

"A weaver story. It is very old and about a place far away." She folded her hands on the tabletop, and leaned in to whisper, as if sharing a secret, although she spoke loud enough for them both to hear. "Would you like to hear it?"

But the question was itself part of the theater, the answer obvious. Carmin was leaning in, too, alert, eager. Chroma joined their siblings while they waited for the water to boil. 

"What about you?"

They did not answer, at first. They had a task to complete: setting out the cups. Then they patted Carmin's head again, and this time, they were able enough to duck out from under their sibling's hand, and stretch up to bump the their horns together, instead. 

Hornet laughed softly. "Worried about the little one? Of course - I was also concerned. What  _ was _ that noise?" 

Carmin and Chroma looked at each other, this time. They each inclined their heads, and then turned to her and shrugged.

She did not seem amused, until the moment when she laughed again. She set her hands behind her and tipped her head back, with all her weight on her arms. "Very well. As long as there's no trouble, your adventures are your own." 

Carmin nodded vigorously, and took their teacup into their hands. This was their own, too. They pushed it over next to Chroma's. Theirs was a large mug, but it matched the smaller pair perfectly; part of a custom set Sheo had made for all of them. They lined it up so that the pattern on one seemed to lead into the pattern on the other. 

They patted the table for Hornet's attention. She straightened and, when she saw what they were doing, slid her cup over the table to them.

They completed the set - Chroma's, Hornet's, and theirs. They had possessed objects before. Their nail, their lantern, their map. Their tools. But it was still rather new, to have a blanket to sleep under and a cushion to sleep on and a cup to drink from - they had never been meant to consume, not in the way that bugs did. They looked up at their tall sibling.

Neither of them had been meant for this, to live like this. And they had defied their purpose before, too; this was why they were here now. They defied their fate every day. They both did, the two of them. Perhaps all of them did, although their sister's binding was of a different nature, and they understood little of it even now. 

Now, when they were about to drink tea and hear Hornet's story. When Chroma had come to comfort them when they were upset. 

They didn't know exactly where it came from, but they had some understanding of what family meant. It had been reinforced by some reading they'd done lately - old journals, written in stone, accounts of wanderers who sometimes missed putting their children to bed or sharing a meal with their family.

And all of this came together, in a patchwork way, to one end: Carmin felt like a child. They were a child, and now, they felt like one. This was how it was supposed to be - imperfect, missing pieces, but the shape was right. 

The kettle screamed, and Chroma rose unhurriedly and stretched before grabbing it. The tea steeped in the pot, was poured among them, and at last Chroma pushed the jar of honey over to Carmin.

They opened it and portioned out their usual three spoonfuls. When they were done, Chroma took the jar - a surprise, as they never sweetened their tea. They did not do so tonight, either. Instead, they tipped an extra spoonful into Carmin's tea. 

"Just the thing for such a night," Hornet noted approvingly. "Shall we begin?"

Her siblings nodded. Carmin patted Chroma's knee, and they picked them up and placed them in their lap again. They took their blanket with them, and their tea, and curled up to listen. 

"Once," Hornet began, "When looms were yet new, there was a young weaver whose silk was well known for its particular strength…" 

Carmin sipped their tea, and listened. When they finished the first cup, they had another, as sweet as the first, with their siblings' encouragement. It warmed them, if only in a rather curious way around the edges, but that was enough. 

Hornet's voice was familiar now, low and earnest. Chroma's shell against their back was unyielding, and a cool counterbalance to their blanket and the tea. 

Perhaps they had not wholly forgotten their nightmare, and they would never forget what had made it. But it was something from a past that could not touch them now, something that could not reach past their family. 

Chroma had took Carmin's cup when it started to slip from their grasp. They pulled their blanket around themself, a little tighter, when their hands were free. They did not feel themself fall asleep at last, but Chroma did. They allowed Hornet to carry on a little longer. They were enjoying the story themself and wanted to be sure that Carmin settled properly, before they gestured to silence her. 

"Did they fall asleep?"

A nod.

"Good, I'd hoped they might, but it can be hard to tell with them." 

They nodded again. Hornet stood, and helped Chroma to balance and stand themself without waking Carmin, who they'd gathered back into their arm. 

"Sometimes, it's too easy to forget how young they are," Hornet noted quietly, solemnly, but she raised her face to meet their gaze. "But less often lately. This is good, yes?" 

They considered it. They didn't know much more than she did, but nonetheless, they agreed. 

She bade them goodnight at Carmin's door. They slipped into their sibling's room again, to lay them back on their cushion. 

No doubt it would be a late morning tomorrow, but this was a little luxury which they could all afford. 


End file.
